


What Happened in Westminster, London

by orphan_account



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Blue Leader - Freeform, Feelings? In MY Tom? It's more likely than you think, Matt's not as dumb as everybody thinks he is, Other, Politics, Prepare your Google Translate because there's a bit of Norwegian, Red Leader, World Domination, tags to be updated as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-28 14:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12608468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Tord didn’t mind the people he lived with, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He enjoyed their company, and the adventures they would all embark on almost every day was certainly memorable. The only downside was that the only time he got to himself was in the middle of the night, which was hardly enough time to get done everything he needed to get done, plus sleep for the recommended 7-8 hours a night in order to be rested. But aside from that, living a happy, fulfilling life with three roommates was the best thing to ever happen to him. Or, well, second best, which is why he felt it necessary to move out.





	1. If You Lose Something

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Before we get started, I just wanted to give a little bit of background about the story. Ignore it if you're not that interested, I won't be offended.
> 
> The basic premise is this: Tord recovers from The End, and he takes over the world. The narrative mostly follows the rise of his empire and the way he's decided to run things, but it won't be purely political, the story is still centered around the main four.  
> The first chapters are the buildup and execution of The End, and everything after that is (mainly) freeform worldbuilding/ruling. A lot of it is just my having fun, and self-indulging my interest in government and politics. It is definitely going to have some pretty detailed bits about how Tord plans on ruling the world, but! There are other story elements, don't worry about it.
> 
> It's been in the works for around a year, what with concepts and outlining (and my procrastination and forgetting), and I think it's ready to be released to archive! So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the story!

Tord didn’t mind the people he lived with, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He enjoyed their company, and the adventures they would all embark on almost every day was certainly memorable. The only downside was that the only time he got to himself was in the middle of the night, which was hardly enough time to get done everything he needed to get done, plus sleep for the recommended 7-8 hours a night in order to be rested. But aside from that, living a happy, fulfilling life with three roommates was the best thing to ever happen to him. Or, well, second best, which is why he felt it necessary to move out.

His line of thinking went a little something like this:

If he moved out of the house, he would have more free time during the day without these shenanigans. He won’t have to work in secret, and he will have the opportunity to open up for plenty of time to devote to his little side project. The one he’s spent the past several years working on an off-and-on basis, inch by inch. The speed at which he worked would more than quadruple if he could avoid embarking on adventures every minute.

Tord spent a few weeks planning for his leave. He’d offer up a shallow excuse that wouldn’t evoke questions or follow-ups, then completely cut off connection with his ex-roommates. He would change his number, move back to Norway, and spend some time there with his accomplices, and take the world country by country. Once everything was set in stone and put into motion, it would almost be like a snowball effect, and by the time people began to realize what was happening, they wouldn’t be able to stop him.

It was perfect, but the only thing Tord would regret was the way Edd looked at him. Tom looked pleased as punch, and Matt didn’t seem to be quite there, but Edd… Edd had the kind of expression you’d see on a betrayed puppy, what little hope could be seen faded from his chocolate brown eyes. He didn’t understand why Tord had to leave. He wasn’t going to ask questions, if Tord had to go somewhere so urgently he wasn’t entitled to an explanation, but he didn’t understand it, and it was killing him. When Tord closed the trunk of the car and got into the driver’s seat, he could swear he saw Edd in tears.

But fate had different plans for Tord, and those plans didn’t include friends.

Norway isn’t so difficult to get used to, especially when you’ve lived there before. There are fewer people, more spread out towns, and everyone drives on the opposite side of the road. It isn’t much of a problem, if Tord was being quite honest, driving on one side of the street versus the other isn’t that difficult. He’d quite easily slipped back into his native language as well. There were so many sights he’d missed seeing, but alas, his trip was not one of leisure, as much as he’d like it to be. It was a business trip, and business can’t wait for feelings.

 

Tord brushed his overgrown hair back with a deathly pale hand, sigh escaping his lips. His eyes scanned the map in front of him, replaying over again the outcome of how each event had transpired, so perfectly according to plan. With every territory painted red, his smile grew, thinking of how far he’d come through these years. He had no regrets about leaving, and if he did, he’d never tell. Tord’s thoughts were anchored back to reality when he realized he was being spoken to.

“--ville være tilbake i London, nei?” Patryk said, glancing over at Tord with a look searching for approval. Paul stood behind him, cigarette between his teeth despite Tord’s warnings not to smoke in the conference room.

“Ehhh… ja, ja.” Tord agreed, only having heard the last part of his statement. The conversation leading up to their meeting in this room wasn’t one of great importance, so Tord couldn’t picture what he was agreeing to.

“Så det er avgjort; vil vi reise tilbake til London før uken er gjennom.” Patryk replied, beginning to roll up the map from the table. Wait… returning to London? Was  _ that _ what they’d been talking about? Well, this was certainly one way to make military decisions. And even still, Tord had a few old friends he’d like to see again.

“Patryk, jeg har et kall til å gjøre.”

The plane ride wasn’t that long, and once they’d arrived in London, Tord’s knowledge of grammar and sentence structure was put to the test once more. It had been practically years since he’d had to speak proper English, and even though he was fluent, his accent was atrocious. He decided that he would let let Paul and Patryk speak on behalf of him for the time being since they were much more familiar with it than he was. He’d have to practice again before he’d see his companions once more.

The hotel was nice. The bed was soft, and the table was just big enough to house the map. Tord rolled out said map and gazed upon it with a look of pride, the only thing left to do was retrieve his robot and hold his army accountable for their part of the plan. His fingers brushed along the reddened sections of the map, faint smile visible on the norski’s lips. He started at Norway, then trailed over Sweden, Finland, Russia... and landed on a particular white section, London. Strategically, it was the next best place for an attack. Well… not an attack, more like a silent seize of power. Once all of that had been said and done, he would be practically unstoppable.


	2. Just Like Old Times

_ Ah, what memories _ , Tord thought to himself, gazing upon the house he’d grown to miss at Durnham lane. He was a day early, but he figured he would surprise the gang, that might stir up an interesting conversation. One thing he just so happened to notice was that it was no longer a one-story home. It looked like they’d made some heavy renovations since he’d last been there. Tord wondered if they’d done anything to his room. He approached the familiar, yet somehow foreign home, hands combing through his mullet in an attempt to look a bit more put-together than he was. Tord was going to meet friends he hadn’t seen in years, and all he wore was a red sweatshirt and jeans. How very classy of him.

He decided to let it go, however, and just breathe. His outfit choice couldn’t be helped at this point, and for whatever reason, he doubted it would have made things any better to wear something a bit more proper. Tord’s feet hardly made noise as they moved along the sidewalk and up to the door. His hand balled into a fist, knocking gently three times. When he was met with no response, he knocked again, to no avail.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Edd,” Tord murmured to himself with a chuckle and a smile, eyes shining with humor. He pulled his lockpick and swiss army knife from his sweatshirt pocket, in all honesty he was glad he’d get to pick the lock. Edd would probably assume Tord still had the set of keys he was given, and that’s how he’d gotten in. After all, he was certain that Edd wouldn’t mind a little surprise company.

It took Tord a bit longer to pick the front door’s lock than he’d have liked, he was definitely out of practice, like with many things. Once he’d gotten inside, he noticed the distinct lack of furniture in the living room. Tord made a mental note to ask about that as he pushed the door closed behind him, observing the rest of the room. Despite the second floor addition, the house didn’t appear to have changed at all. He quickly located the silent alarm, entering the same code they’d had for years, disarming it with ease. With how simple it was to break into their house, one might think they almost  _ expected _ Tord to enter without permission.

His first destination was his old room, half curious if they’d done anything to it and half worried they might have found his secret room. As he turned the corner, his eyes fell on several locks that secured the door in place. Odd, but not an unsolvable. Tord would just refer back to his friends, mr. lockpick and mrs. pocket knife.

When Tord was about halfway through the endless barricade of locks, soft humming and gentle footsteps padded against the flooring, slightly muffled behind a wall or two. Something about harpoons. The noises didn’t seem to be approaching Tord, but he was proven wrong when a loud clash was heard, and that same gravelly voice he’d remembered spoke with the same edge of defensive skepticism, “Who goes there?!”

The norski turned towards the sound of Tom’s voice, surprise apparent on his face. He was met with a gasp. Tord smiled, eyes drifting towards the floor as he slipped his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. He took three steps forward, raising his head to make eye contact. “Hello… old friend.”

Tom crossed his arms, immediately scowling.

“Tord!” Edd exclaimed, pulling Tord into a hug. He stiffened and became momentarily unresponsive, he didn’t expect Edd’s reaction to be so… physical. Hugs are typically standard greetings, yes, and even though it made sense, Tord still found it odd. Edd pulled away from the hug and put his hands on either side of Tord, grinning. He was radiating joy, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Welcome back!”

“Welcome  _ back _ ?” Tom echoed, emphasizing the ‘back’ part. His scowl morphed into surprise when Edd draped his arm around the Norwegian fellow’s shoulders. Matt rounded the corner with a snack, seemingly drawn to all of the noise of the house.

“I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in,” Tord remarked, arms drifting into a light shrug. Tom crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. Something clearly wasn’t right about this situation.

Matt finished his food, smiling the sort of friendly smile only close companions could share as he waved his hands dismissively. “No! Not at all.” Tord smiled softly until Matt’s smile quickly became a look of confusion. “...who are you?”

“It’s me!” Tord brought his arms back up almost enthusiastically with a grin to rival even the best of them. His head tilted at an angle and his eyebrows furrowed, tacking on: “Tord?”

The name didn’t seem to ring a bell for the ginger. Edd pointed a hand at Tord, gesturing with a patient yet almost bored expression. “He used to live here?”

Matt glanced over at Tom, who glared at Tord. “Yeah,  _ used to _ .”

“You really… don’t remember?” What remained of Tord’s smile had faded as he shrugged his shoulders in defeat. After all they’d been through together, all the adventures and fun times spent as a team- had Matt really forgotten about him?

In any case, Edd was eager to show their new-old friend around the house once more. Ringo brushed up against Tord’s leg, purring softly. He reached down to pet him, calloused hands stroking the soft and well-groomed fur. At least the cat hadn’t forgotten him.

Tord looked around the living room, being reminded of his earlier question while Edd scooped up an eager Ringo up into his arms. “What happened to the chairs?”

“Tom sold them to a pirate,” Edd explained this as if this was an everyday occurrence, and just one more common activity to report. He hadn’t expected to become involved in shenanigans so quickly, or rather to hear about said escapades so soon. There hadn’t even been much time to talk and catch up before the first odd thing happened. Or, well, before it was mentioned.

“Hah. Classic, stupid Tom.” Tord laughed animatedly, nudging Tom as he spoke and ending with a poke to his cheek. He remembered something he’d had in his pocket, and stepped forward, producing it with a gentle smile. He could all but feel the look of skepticism on Tom’s face. “Don’t worry.”

A press of a button and a gentle toss sent the metallic box to the ground. Edd and Tom exchanged a momentary look of confusion before the gadget beeped, and expanded into a couch, red and pale navy with footrests, a drink-holder, and even a light. Tord pulled out an almost identical box, only to be confiscated by Tom.

“Yay, sofa!” Matt and Edd exclaimed in unison, causing Tord to chuckle.

“What is this?” Tom asked, squinting his eyes and holding the invention up towards the light. Edd seemed perplexed as well, once the initial excitement of having a couch again had begun to die down.

“Oh… just something I invented.” A gentle smile crept its way up to Tord’s face as he turned raising the panel up, taking his time before pressing the button. The tennis-ball-sized contraption beeped rapidly and soon became a full-sized chair, pinning Tom to the floor beneath it. Tord tossed the remote onto the chair’s cushion, turning towards the other two and laughing. They joined in, sharing the mutual moment of humor.

Tom struggled to pull himself out from underneath the chair. Tord climbed on top of it and kicked his legs over the side of the chair, the added weight really wasn’t helping. “Oof… when are you leaving again?”

“Leaving?” Tord gasped with fake shock, smiling and bringing a hand upwards in a gesture of joy, “I’m moving back in!”

"What?!" Tom yanked himself from beneath the furniture, frantic expression and quick hand motions evidence of his surprise. “Edd!”

“Tom! Stop being so rude,” Edd scolded, “I told you last week.”

Tom didn’t remember this conversation happening. If Edd  _ had _ told him, he’d forgotten about it, but in any case, the Norwegian seemed to be having a ball watching the interaction. Edd continued the tour of the house, the downstairs was practically the same as it was before, but the upstairs seemed to be covered wall-to-wall with treasures and antiques.

“Wow,” Tord breathed, taking in every little detail with a hint of remorse and nostalgia, “It looks like you had lots of adventures while I was away. I wish I could have been there...”

And he wasn’t lying, he missed every moment of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll shoot for each chapter being roughly 1,000-2,000 words, but depending on how in-depth I do or don't go, chapter length may vary.
> 
> Updates will be released every Thursday unless said otherwise.
> 
> ...Thanks for reading the first chapter =o


End file.
